Con Artist
by Recall the Love
Summary: Chloe finds out Beca's tattoos are actually fake, temporary tattoos.


**A/N: Set some time during the first movie. Let's pretend it's at all feasible or sensible for someone to do this for so long. Thanks to Dash for the idea :P**

 **Should have known this goddamn fandom would pull me back in... I just know that when the full movie comes out I'm gonna be there writing another bullshit long fic. Anyway, long time no see/hi to anyone new stumbling in. How are you guys? I'm pretty fucking great these days. Drop me a line and say hello if you're still kicking around this fandom (seriously five years is too long)**

* * *

Chloe has had a few "morning after" experiences to compare. The good ones included coffee and at worst, a mild hangover the next morning, but overall there haven't been many of those in her lifetime. Much more likely she'll be trying to sneak out with a banging headache, and/or not vomit or be vomited on. Zero out of ten, the lowest rating she's ever given, definitely applies to her first experience during freshman year. She still gags at the smell of lemons even now.

This though – this is new, for several reasons. First, because she's in her own bed for once, which hardly ever happens. Secondly, no sign of a hangover, mostly because the activities of the night before were conducted entirely sober. Thirdly, because she's waking up next to someone she's in love with. And lastly, because said person is completely naked, allowing themselves to be cuddled from behind, and is also called Beca Mitchell.

Not bad. Not bad. She'd rate this morning a solid ten out of ten. Heck, just the fact Beca is even still here and hasn't bolted would make for a decent morning even if they hadn't made love (and yes, she's going to call it that, even if Beca will turn her nose up at at it) the night before. Still, she's especially enjoying just getting to look at (and touch) a completely exposed Beca, without having her freak out or yank her clothes up to her neck. In particular she's always wanted to see these tattoos up close, ever since she caught a glimpse in the shower. The few times she's seen them peeking out from beneath her clothes haven't been enough either – not compared to the luxury of just lying here, with the freedom to touch her girlfriend however she wants, for as long as she wants.

Add on the sleepy, content little noises Beca's making as Chloe's fingertips trace soothingly over the tattoo at the base of her spine... Chloe might just throw out the whole rating system altogether, because it clearly means nothing compared to this moment.

At least, until something rather odd happens. It's as she's tracing those equalizer bars she's been dying to look at for months now that something catches her eye, and her brow creases.

At first she thinks it's just a little dirt, or her eyes are playing tricks on her. Maybe the poor lighting filtering through the gap in the curtains. Or maybe Beca just got an extremely badly done tattoo, and that's why she's been so reluctant to let Chloe see it. However, as she rubs her fingertips over it (then applies a little more pressure, then digs a little with her nail), she can't help but raise her eyebrows. Doing the same to Beca's shoulder blade shows the same results.

And now, Chloe is very, very suspicious.

"Beca," she says slowly, and quietly. Though she's never woken up next to Beca before, she's certainly familiar enough with Morning-Beca to know that she needs to be woken softly and gently. "Beca."

"Mm." Beca's response verges on a growl, displeased with so much interaction when she could be spending valuable time with her eyes closed. "What, Chloe?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Must you?"

"Yes. It's important."

Beca sighs and stretches, making her body arch in ways that are highly distracting. For a moment Chloe considers dropping the conversation, because she is definitely not going to respond well to this question. And there are probably more important things she could be doing right now while Beca is naked in her bed.

But dammit, she's just so damn curious.

"What, then?"

Is she ready for this conversation? It's probably not going to go well. Again, she could just drop it and let Beca off for today. Maybe it'll become one of those unspoken things in their relationship, like when Beca leaves hair in her shower drain, or when Chloe crunches her cereal too loudly.

Except: no. She can't leave this.

Because it's just so goddamn _weird._

"... Why are your back tattoos disintegrating?"

There's a moment where, in her still-mostly-asleep state, Beca just makes a few unintelligible noises. As the question that Chloe asked slowly makes its way into her brain, however, the muscles beneath Chloe's fingers tense accordingly– and then she suddenly leaps to the other side of the bed, away from Chloe's touch. She seizes the covers and pulls them up to her neck, hiding her lower half from view.

Beca's tongue makes an appearance as she licks her bottom lip over and over, eyes darting anxiously around the room. "Oh my God," she mutters. "Oh my God."

Well now. She had somewhat anticipated Beca freaking out the morning after they had slept together, but this wasn't quite the way she thought it would go. She hasn't looked this spooked since the first time Chloe saw her naked; she looks about ready to leap over the bed and jump right out of the window if it'll get her out of this situation.

So, Chloe reaches over and puts a hand on her shoulder in an effort to calm her down.

"Beca," she says, making her voice as even and direct as she can, "What's going on?"

"Oh my God."

Okay, now she's full on freaking out. Her face is turning bright red, and Chloe isn't sure if that's from embarrassment or from the state of hyperventilation she's in right now. If the poor girl doesn't relax she's probably going to pass out one way or another. Chloe gives her a little shake. "Beca, c'mon, snap out of it. Tell me what's going on."

"I can't," she says, sounding almost on the verge of tears. "You're gonna make fun of me."

"I won't." She kind of has an inkling where this is going – there's only one real reason why that tattoo might be crumbling away like that – but she wants to hear Beca say it. And with her looking so spooked right now there's no way she'll admit it unless her anxieties are soothed.

Beca frowns, her death grip on the sheets loosening just a fraction. "Do you promise?" she demands desperately. "Unless you promise, I'm not explaining."

"I promise," she says. "I swear on my signed copy of David Guetta's album, and you know how much I love that thing." The one with Titanium on it, obviously.

"Oh God. Don't remind me." Beca takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, then exhales shakily. It takes all Chloe's energy to suppress a smile, because this is just so like Beca. It's so obvious what's happened, but the fact they're even in this predicament is just hilarious to her. "My tattoos..." Beca begins shakily.

"Yes..." says Chloe encouragingly.

"My tattoos are fakes."

Well, duh, Chloe nearly says out loud, but she's holding to that promise of not making fun of Beca for now. She nods, not exactly surprised since she's seen the evidence up close. "I see," she says. "As in, stick-on tattoos? The ones that kids use?"

Beca winces, pulling the sheets up to cover her face. "Yes," she says mournfully.

There's only one appropriate reaction, besides laughing (which she's sure will come later). "Uh... Why?"

"I swear I had a genuine reason initially," Beca says. "I bought them online – initially I just put them on so I could see if I liked the design. And maybe to freak out my parents, specifically my Dad."

That kind of makes sense. Still weird, but it's certainly Beca-logic. "Okay..."

"And then I thought, hey, why don't I reapply them for a while, see if I like having them on long-term? And then one of my friends back home saw them, and ... one thing led to another..."

"You wanted to seem cool," confirms Chloe, making Beca groan.

"God, you never sugar-coat things, do you?"

"Beca, you're naked in my bed. You literally can't hide anything from me." Chuckling at Beca's sour look, Chloe then asks, "Why didn't you just get the tattoos done for real?"

Even more colour blooms across her cheeks. "I... I'm afraid of needles," Beca admits. "I never got around to having them all done properly. I just kept putting it off."

"Beca, that's ..." Chloe shakes her head, now failing at keeping back the smile she's been suppressing the last five minutes. "Are you serious? You're afraid of needles? You have piercings! I've seen you get shots when I took you to the doctor that one time!"

"It's different," says Beca defensively.

"How?!"

"It just is! The tattoo machine freaks me out!"

"Oh my God. This is insane," says Chloe. "Who knew Beca Mitchell was so worried about what other people thought of her?" She knew Beca could be oddly concerned with looking 'badass' sometimes – but she knew thought things would go this far. It certainly makes some things make sense now, like Beca's reluctance to take any amount of clothing off around her unless rather inebriated.

She's squinting at Chloe now, trying to read her expression. "I can't tell what you're thinking right now."

"Well, it's pretty weird, Beca, I'm not going to lie."

"You think I'm a freak, don't you?" she says accusingly. Despite all the snark in her tone, however, Beca's voice wobbles a bit. Chloe's eyes widen in alarm, heart squeezing at the idea of actually hurting Beca's feelings by accident.

"No!" She grips Beca's wrist, tugging until the reluctant girl rolls closer and allows herself to be cuddled. "Of course I don't think you're a freak, you silly."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?" she asks, face muffled in Chloe's neck.

"Like what?"

"I just told you. Like I'm freak."

Pointing out the circular nature of the logic is probably useless, Chloe decides, so she changes tactic. "Don't worry. I definitely don't think you're a freak. Although I am wondering how I managed to miss this for so long, and how you managed to keep up that lie for ages. What else are you hiding from me, eh?"

It's meant to be a joke, not a way of hurting Beca's feelings more, but she makes a tiny, distressed noise that Chloe probably wouldn't have heard if they weren't in such close proximity. "I'm not hiding anything, I swear," says Beca in a small voice. "I'm just a lot more dumb and scared of what people think than you thought."

"Oh, Beca..." Chloe sweeps a hand down her naked back, feeling where the tattoos are starting to fall away. She kisses her cheek softly. "It's okay. Although for future reference, emotional honesty is way easier than trying to hide tattoos from your girlfriend."

"When have I ever done things the easy way?"

"True," Chloe agrees. "All the same... No more secrets, Mitchell. Do you hear me?" She jabs Beca in the back, and as she does so, feels her suddenly tense. Chloe rolls her eyes. "Oh my God. What now? Are you gonna tell me your boobs are fake too, now?"

Chloe gets a punched shoulder for her trouble. Worth it. "Shut up! Of course they're not fake."

"Oh, I know. I found that for myself last night." Giggling at Beca's disgruntled expression, she pokes Beca again. "Anyway, don't try and distract me. I know you're keeping something else from me, so you might as well tell me now so we don't have any other awkward conversations down the line."

In response, Beca mumbles something completely unintelligible to the pillow.

"What?" says Chloe, craning her head closer in order to hear.

"I said," she repeats, "... notallofthemarefake."

The volume was fine this time, but she says it so quickly that it takes a few seconds to decipher. Once she's understood, Chloe's confused expression doesn't change at all. "What? But you just said you're afraid of needles. I thought that was the whole reason you didn't have real tattoos yet."

"And I am," says Beca. "They _were_ fakes, but I had two of them done properly. I'm working my way up to the others, since they're bigger and they'll take longer."

"So which ones are real?" Beca's eyes dart to the door, as though weighing up the consequences of running back to her room fully naked. But Chloe grasps her arm. "Oh no. We got this far, you can't bail now."

"This one is real," she says, indicating the headphone tattoo on her left wrist. "And... This one is also real."

She thrusts her right arm forward in Chloe's direction, shutting her eyes as though the action causes her physical pain. Chloe looks down, but of course she already knows which one Beca is referring to. Not understanding why Beca seems so embarrassed, she clarifies, "The grasshopper?"

Beca says from between gritted teeth, "Yes."

"When did you have that done?"

"... About three months ago."

Now that she mentions it, Chloe does remember Beca stubbornly wearing long sleeved shirts even when everyone around her was basically reduced to their underwear due to the heat. But if it was only real three months ago, then that means –

"So... When we met –"

"Yep. It was fake," replies Beca. "Actually, the grasshopper was the first one I got done for real... Because..."

She trails off, but Chloe still sees her gaze flit down to her body, down to where Chloe's own ladybird tattoo sits on her forearm. It only takes a second to put two and two together.

Her squeal is probably heard down the corridor.

" _Oh my God!"_

"Stop." Beca has mentally evacuated the room, burying her face in the pillow as though she can phase through to the other side.

"Oh my God!" Chloe rolls towards Beca, trying to push her face away from the pillow. "That's adorable. You got it because of me?! Because we bonded over bug tattoos?!"

"No!" She bats away Chloe's hands and rolls back onto her side. "I mean, not entirely. Like, I already wanted that tattoo. Eventually they're all gonna be real once I get around to it. But choosing to get that one done first..."

"It was totally because of me," says Chloe gleefully.

If any more blood enters Beca's face there's won't be any left in the rest of her body. A muscle twitches in her jaw as she grinds out, "Okay, I _guess,_ if I had to stand in front of a court of law and tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth... I _might_ say it had something to do with you, and because that tattoo took on an extra meaning for me when we got together. _Maybe,_ " she adds, unnecessarily.

Chloe's grin is almost breaking her jaw to maintain. "You are absolutely precious," Chloe gushes. "Oh my God. I actually can't believe this." She pushes Beca onto her back and swings a leg over either side of her hips, smiling at the way she squirms beneath her. "I knew you were a softy deep down, but this is just ridiculous."

"Yeah yeah," Beca grumbles, but she accepts the deep kiss that Chloe gives her without complaint (not that she's ever given those in response to kisses). Chloe also places kisses on the grasshopper tattoo, which she's even more fond of now. It's unbearably cute knowing Beca is afraid of needles, and still went to get it anyway just because it reminded her of Chloe. Just imagining her reapplying those tattoos every morning, spending months working up the courage is adorable.

"When are you going to get the others done?" Chloe asks, fingering the edge of the flowers she can see peeking over Beca's shoulder.

"I dunno. Like I said... They're bigger, so I've been putting it off. The grasshopper and the headphones weren't too bad, but I'm still not keen on the process."

"I could come with you, if you like. Moral support." Truth be told, she does want to give moral support, but more importantly she wants to hold Beca's hand while she's having it done and comfort her while she freaks out about needles. To illustrate her silent point, Chloe picks up Beca's limp hand from her side and joins their fingers together, squeezing once.

Beca eyes her, expression somewhat distrusting. "That's sweet, but from the look on your face, I kind of think you have an ulterior motive."

Chloe grins, bending at the waist and leaning down. Her hair forms a curtain around the two of them, and Beca's breath catch a little at the sudden intimate contact that she's still not quite used to yet. She drops her voice into its lowest register and says, "When have I ever been known to have ulterior motives?"

"Uh, pretty much always."

"Hm," Chloe hums. "True enough." Kissing Beca once, she sits back on her heels just as a wonderful thought enters her mind. "Ooh – I just thought, the Bellas are going to love hearing about this."

"No!" The volume of Beca's yell, and her suddenly panicked expression makes Chloe blink and pause.

"No?"

"No, Chloe – you can't. You _can't_ tell them, please."

Chloe pouts. "Why not? They're gonna find out eventually."

"Because I don't want to tell them. I know it's pretty ridiculous, but... I'm not ready," Beca replies. "I wasn't even ready to tell you yet, but I got so caught up in the moment last night I completely forgot about covering up this morning. It's embarrassing as hell that I did this for so long. I'd rather no one, especially Aubrey, finds out how much a fucking dweeb I am."

She looks oddly vulnerable, and for the first time Chloe considers what this whole thing might mean to Beca. And certainly it would be a hilarious story, and she maintains that one day she should tell the Bellas just on that merit – but navigating Beca's fragile self esteem is a balancing act as it is. She should probably count her lucky stars that this is the conversation they're having the-morning-after instead of Beca breaking up with her out of panic or something. "Okay, fine. I won't say a word."

Beca sinks back into the bed, relieved. "Thanks, Chloe. I owe you." Suddenly realising what she's said, and seeing the slow smile spread across her girlfriend's face, she hurries to say, "I didn't mean literally, though."

"Too late – you said it. You owe me, in exchange for my silence."

Beca gulps. "But -"

"No buts," Chloe insists. "You lied to me all this time, the least you could do is let me have a bit of fun with it."

It's logic even Beca can't argue with, or more accurately, wouldn't dare to. "... Do I even want to know what you have in mind?"

Chloe grins in response. "I guess you'll have to see, won't you?" Chloe sing-songs, already whipping out her phone from its place on the bedside cabinet. As she fires up Amazon, she winks down at her worried looking girlfriend. "Don't worry. I have just the thing for you."

Definitely a ten out of ten morning for both her _and_ Beca.

* * *

"Beca," asks Aubrey at practice a week later, "do I even _want_ to know what's going on with your tattoos?"

Beca sighs, folding her arms. She turns her cheek towards Aubrey, trying to own her new Tuesday aesthetic: the word _Chloe's_ painstakingly spelled out in individual letters on her collarbone, and below that, an arrow pointing down into her cleavage. "I have no idea what you mean, Aubrey."

Aubrey raises an eyebrow at her co-captain, who isn't even trying to hide her giggles. Between this, the doe-eyed looks the two of them have been giving each other the past few weeks, and Chloe talking her ear off about Beca all the time, Aubrey is starting to lose her nerve. "Actually, you know what? Whatever weird freaky thing you guys are up to, I really don't want to know."

As Aubrey reaches over Chloe to pick up the whiteboard eraser, Chloe drops her voice into a whisper. "She has another arrow below her belly button."

When Chloe smirks over Aubrey's shoulder at Beca, it takes all of her energy not to give a repeat performance of the ICCA finals all over the auditorium floor.


End file.
